Magic The Fanfiction
by panickedfish
Summary: a series of one-shots, mostly about white and black (Orzhov) combos. I like to fictionalize the lives of the cards as characters and make the narrative about the battlefield in-game. rating may change as i get more comfortable with my writing and try to write darker fics, which is my goal. thanks to everyone who reads!
1. Sun vs Wave

**Sun vs. Wave**

"Soldiers, ready!" Elspeth cried.

She stood off to the side on a slightly elevated patch of land so that she might have a vantage point to better understand the mechanics of battle. While not directly engaged in combat herself, Elspeth was loyal to her troops and summoned as many soldiers as she could with her sorcery. They joined her existing forces in scores and scores, but her heart was heavy with the fear that this would all not be enough.

The battlefield was spread out before her, storm clouds gathering. She had commanded her soldiers to attack on her signal and not raise any weapon a moment sooner. They were prepared to fight to the death against their enemies. Wind whipped the salt from the sea into their faces and they stood firm even as the waves rose and crashed and boiled from the pressure of the creatures beneath, scalding the brave souls on the front lines.

She was supposed to be the Sun's Champion but now, more than ever, she felt like her presence was a crippling blight to her soldiers. they were large in number but weak in individual strength. It was as though her powers as a knight had been negated.

Now, it looked like they were about to face off against another onslaught of attackers. After some hidden signal ordered them to do so, these imposing creatures of the water walked onto the land from the oceans directly, their tentacles waving and thrashing with malice as they smote anyone in their path. Her soldiers were not silent as they fell; screaming to whoever they honored most as their god. Their composure was flawed in their last moments on earth and Elspeth was alarmed at how many times her name was called amid a flurry of weapons and blood.

Elspeth was strong. She knew that she could not shut her senses - sight and hearing - from the death that surrounded her. She wished she could. Perhaps this military campaign, even with all of the care and thought she had put into planning the confrontation, was simply not ready to face a battle of this scale. Something much deeper and darker was lurking beneath the waves - the legendary Kiora, Crashing Wave. If she had yet to make an appearance, what would happen to her soldiers then?

Her soldiers were dying as soon as she could summon reinforcements to take their place. Each individual man and women who lost their life was not simply a token pawn. They were their own entity, with consciousness, love and hope in their hearts. Perhaps they didn't even know why they signed up for this campaign. And now they were all dying. It was her fault.

There was nothing she could do to stop it. The creatures of the waves were hungry and humans were their preferred meal. The situation seemed hopeless. She was a tactician and a leader at heart who cared deeply for those who were willing to lay down their lives at her feet. She felt guilty for every drop of blood spilled but feared that it was too late to change the plan now. She did not want to back down, even against these creatures of the deepest ocean.

In spite of everything, though, she was their leader. And so her followers marched blindly out onto the plains at the edge of the battlefield, facing a verdant heaven of green forests and blue islands that raggedly lined the coast.

The tides of battle had been changing for some time. The clanging sound of her troops' weapons colliding with scaly armor made her heart sink. She knew what it was like to be on the losing side of a battle. And perhaps it would be wisest to settle this as a draw.

Night was falling and the ocean creatures always returned to their depths when the moon came out from behind the clouds. After one more round of attacks, the krakens, octopi, and all other creatures were overwhelmed by a dark blue wave and retreated to their strong hold in the ocean, no doubt preparing for the next duel that was to come.

Elspeth stood watching the bubbles rising to the surface. Kiora would be furious. And next time neither opponent would back down until the very end.


	2. Make Your Own Luck

**Make Your Own Luck**

 _"Dragons seek war._

 _I bring it to them"_

The battle lines drawn, stacks of enemies faced off against each other. The dragons were to the north, sequestered in the mountains that breathed smoke, ash, and fire. The very ground seemed to rumble with each inhalation, take off, and landing. Tarkir was a battleground, war-torn and ravaged so that the earth was still torn open, the crevices scars that remained still fresh no matter how much time had passed in between fights.

Opposing the dragons was a relatively small force of black and white warriors. They had their own minor field advantage, with beneficial lands - plains and swamps - spread around and behind their army. Despite their good fortune, however, it did little to help these vastly outnumbered warriors. They were a rag-tag team, some Mardu, some Sultai, and some Outjai, all of whom became united - and would only remain so - for as long as the dragons were a threat.

The general who was leading their force was grim. The hardened scales of her armor reflected the harsh desert sunlight and only served to enrage the dragons further - the thought of their cohort being slain and then disrespected in this way was almost imaginable in their ancient brains. Dragonscale was her name, the general whose very presence was supposed to bolster the spirits of warriors under her command. She had sworn fealty to the side of the humans in this war against dragons, and she was determined to defend her army until its very last stand.

The sky filled with angry cries and shrieks of flame. Another attack. The humans braced themselves, scared for their lives.

Smoke stung their lungs and a cone of flame erupted from the mouth of a dragon flying overhead. The warriors avoided the attack as best as they could, despite the flying nature of the dragons giving them the advantage. More of their force were harmed in the assault. Three died, bringing the number of soldiers down to ten total. Dragonscale knew that if she did not act now, there might not be another chance. She tried in vain to reach her weapon high enough to strike one of the monsters overhead. Flames licked the sides of her body. Thank the gods that she was protected by the dead body of one of their own. Her armor was the only thing that helped her stay alive.

"flavour text"

The warriors readied their weapons; after the most recent dragon assault, soon they would find their opening chance to attack. The battle was raging on and the warriors were trying to stall as long as possible until their reinforcements arrived to land the final blow. Now it became a game of waiting, hoping for the right moments to draw near.

Finally, the signal they were waiting for. A single reinforcement, one individual with the strength of ten or more, she would be the key to securing their victory.

One by one, the warriors knelt down in the soft ground, allowing their own energy to be drained. Straining to the point of near-death was crucial if this spell were to work. As they meditated, they became united as one, their strength combining. Light swept through each individual and joined all of them together as one. Then the light disappeared and when the warriors broke apart, grunting and gasping from the effort, another entity was revealed among their numbers.

She was huge - with wings that stretched far from her shoulder blades. When she unfurled them completely, the skies parted to the colour of a beautiful orange-pink sunset. There was a cheer from the warriors, as their strength was renewed by her appearance.

The Seraph of the Masses was so beautiful and ethereal she had the presence of an illusion. As an angel she was awe inspiring and the smaller dragons, though many in number, were all rather weak individually. Dragonscale smiled and poured more of her own strength into bolstering the troops whom had all come together to convoke the Seraph's appearance.

The battlefield was changing drastically.

Now, the warriors stood a chance.

All hope was not lost.


End file.
